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My calf muscles had always given me trouble in high school. My coach would just roll her eyes as my toes froze painfully in place and my calf seized up. “Ace,” she would say, “I told you to drink more water. Now look what’s happening.”
Andrew crouched next to me as I sat on the ground, concern etched in the lines of his face. “Are you okay?”
I bared my teeth at him as fingernails of pain shot up my leg. “Yup. Just casually sitting in the middle of the sidewalk. No big deal.”
“What can I do?” His hands hovered over my leg, my pain reflected in his eyes. “What do you need?”
“Grab the Gatorade from my backpack and give it to me.” Andrew quickly unzipped the bag and handed me the drink. I gulped it greedily, hoping for a miracle. The last time I got a cramp in my leg, I could barely walk for the whole day. If I caught it early enough, though, chances are I’d be okay within a few hours.
This time, I was lucky. I felt the pain ease after a few minutes, and I breathed a sigh of relief. After watching me for what felt like eternity, Andrew stood up and offered me a hand. I looked at it with narrowed eyes.
“Let’s go back to my parents’ place,” he said, wiggling his fingers for emphasis. “It’s closer than your place or mine, so you can rest there, and then head back to Muscle Head.”
“Don’t call him that,” I said, but took his hand anyway.
By the time we got back to Andrew’s parents’ house, the pain had eased even more, to the point where I could (slowly) limp. Even still, when I looked at the twenty-five steps up to the house, a sense of dread draped itself over my shoulders. Andrew glanced at me then at the stairs.
“Guess I’ll have to carry you,” he said.
I tensed automatically then instantly regretted it as my leg also tensed up. “Absolutely not.”
“How else are you gonna get up the stairs? Don’t be such a priss. I promise I won’t come onto you.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s not that.”
“Then what?”
I sighed. “I want to keep at least one modicum of dignity. I feel like I have none left, dealing with you.”
Andrew’s murmur of a laugh surrounded us, made my face heat up with embarrassment. “C’mon, Jones, don’t suffer just to keep your dignity.”
“I can make it up the stairs, thanks.”
As I started my slow ascent, Andrew loped up the stairs two at a time, dropped our bags on the porch then came back to watch me get to stair three. He raised an eyebrow, and I held up a hand. “Don’t fucking say it.”
“I’m going to carry you upstairs, Ace. Your face is killing me.”
“Really? You want to make jokes right now?” I gasped for air as I tried to move away from him.
He looked up toward the sky as if to say, Lord, why. Finally, without saying a word, he scooped me up into his arms. Though I initially protested, I couldn’t help but notice that my leg thanked me for relieving the pressure. Great, I thought. Even my body is working against me.
“Put me down, Parker,” I said, the fight going out of me instantly. I tried not to be a creep and sniff his shoulder, where my head was. “I’m fine now. I think I just needed a minute to take the weight off my leg.”
“Cool. So this will be more enjoyable, then.” He walked slowly up the stairs, being careful not to hit my legs on the handrails. “Be quiet and enjoy the ride, squirt.”
I rolled my eyes but stayed silent.
Honestly, the “lift” was quite enjoyable, despite all my complaints. I couldn’t think of a time where anyone had held me like this, and it felt nice. Andrew’s steady heartbeat against my shoulder helped my own heart rate to follow suit.
Once we were inside, I took the two minutes to look around. Nothing much had changed in the last two years since I had been here. The lower level was dark, cool, and silent. Nobody was home, I supposed. Family photos lined the walls, displaying each family member at different stages of life. There was a photo of a toothless Andrew—I could tell by the baby’s smile—and a photo of Mr. and Mrs. Parker on their wedding day, right next to it.
The air in the house held the smoky, bonfire smell that was Andrew’s signature. I breathed in the familiarity, feeling it wrap around me like Andrew’s arms. I marveled at how everything felt like it was welcoming me home.
When we finally made it to the second floor, Andrew moved toward the upper level family room. He placed me on the couch and smoothed some of the curls away from my face. “You doing okay?”
I tested my leg by gingerly moving to and fro. “Seems to be holding. I feel strangely peaceful, actually.”
“Endorphins.” Andrew’s eyes flitted the length of my body, taking inventory, and I flushed. “But you already knew that.”
